Arnold and I followed Charles the hunter to sit outside on his porch. We listened to his stories while he smoked but we were at alert with all our senses heightened. He had his guns and machines loaded and was covered underneath the jacket he wore. Once it was twelve on dot we heard a howl, so sharp and focused with a thrill of hunting. The howling became louder and others joined in. In the lycanthrope world, we call this kind of howling …..the hunters call.
“They are here.” Arnold got on his feet and whistled. I closed my eyes and used my wolf’s powers to count how many they were. In my wolf’s point of view, the environment is darker with every object on the way painted green. The rogues were scattered but they remained in the vicinity and all together, they were ten. “How many?” I hear
